Footsteps to Home
by wishes of falling stars
Summary: Drabbles on the relationship of one Hitsugaya Toshiro and Hinamori Momo. In chronological order- Somewhat
1. Hello

HI...Welcome to this story

What is it? Exactly what it says in the description. A drabble fic about the relationship of Hitsugaya Toshiro and Hinamori Momo, because personally, I think their relationship is long, complicated, angsty, and incredibly beautiful, and I love them, both separate and together. So I'm putting them on paper (figuratively) and filling in, explaining some of the blank holes that the manga doesn't already provide.

And...I really suck at explaining, so you might just want to go on and read the story, before I bore you out of your mind...

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach (tear)

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**Hello** _Stranger, Welcome to my Life_-

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He saw her one day, a lone girl with dark hair and beautifully bright dark eyes, bright and trembling against a solid gray wall, against a sea of gray and black and human bodies that were leering at her, pumping their fists, circling her, slowly, but surely closing in on their prey.

In her hands, he saw that she carried a small woven basket, and he could almost taste the freshly baked bread that was wafting in the air. _They must be after her food_, he thought hungrily and watched, watched as she didn't move, didn't cry, but only stood, defiantly, crazily, stupidly, against them. Alone.

A girl against an army.

_And a boy against the world._

From the shadows, he screams without making a sound. _"Leave, run, shout, scream, escape—do something, you baka, don't just stand there, you don't have a chance!" _The voices echo loudly, much too loudly in his mind, because he knows what will happen to her, the same thing that happens to most, if not all souls that become victims of gangs and robbing bands like this one.

Bodies broken, bruised, robbed, left rotting out in the streets, like old vegetables left out in the sun.

He's passed by more of those wide eyed, glassy stares and gangs with flecks of blood on their faces more times than he cares to, or wants to remember, in the short time he's been here. He remembers the first time he saw one, and remembers the sick feeling in his stomach and the blank-horror filled eyes that haunted him in his sleep. _Too much, too much-_ But that was too long ago; in the very short time he has walked these streets. Now, he doesn't even as much glance back, except to see if there's anything left behind, a scrap of food, a small coin that he might use.

It didn't take him long to understand. This was life in Rukongai. It's an endless cycle, drilled and repeated into his brain with every cold glance, every person who ignores the cries of children starving in the dark. The strong and wealthy are nobles and shinigami and live away in Seireitei and everyone else is left to fend for themselves, every man, woman, and child for themselves. And they fight, fight like dogs to survive in a world where if you don't you die. Simple as that.

He doesn't need anybody, and nobody needs him-

An oily, snotty voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and immediately makes him want to punch something in, preferably his face.

"Come on, girlie, why don't you be a good girl and hand us that little basket you have in your pretty little hands. It's just a little basket, and we're so hungry—if you don't give it up, well I'd hate to think what we'd do to you to get it…"

He does a quick head count of them. One, two, three, four, five, six of them. All taller than he is, and probably older as well, but not by much. Maybe 3 or 4, but he doubts that he can handle 12 arms or 12 legs, 6 bodies. _Damn_. He curses, and then immediately berates himself for it. He shouldn't care about this person, this girl, on whom he has absolutely no idea who she is or where she comes from—

Why does he want to save her so badly?

"_Run. Don't be stupid. Go in between them. Save Yourself!,_" he asks.

She shakes her head, slowly, cautiously, and doesn't move.

The tallest of the group licks his lips and inches forward.

Before he can stop himself, he jumps out of the shadows and yells. His voice reverberates off the wall and the silent human bodies.

"What are you waiting for? Run, you baka, run!"

She whips her head around, and immediately holds him with her panic filled, shock filled pools of chocolate brown and—

They pounced.

But they never made it.

Quick as a flash, he leapt and knocked two boys down with one sweeping side kick, and dispatched another one with a couple of solid punch to the ribs. "_Three down, three to go_" he thought, as he warily eyed the remaining three boys—"_Not good_, _none of these people seem to be any good, but I've already lost the element of surprise and if they surround me, I'm not going to be able to block all their hits—_

He swerved another punch and winced, as a kick connected with his legs, and he fell, sprawling to the floor. "Yeah, that'll teach the little fucker" he could hear them talk, "What happens to people when they mess around with us"—and saw a fist plunging towards his face. Just barely, he rolled away, and stood, legs like burning butter.

"—_I need to find a way to beat them altogether" _He caught sight of the alley wall, _"Risky, but it doesn't look like I have a choice." _He ran to the alley wall_. "_Hey!" he yelled, trying not to wince at the pain or how ridiculous he sounded, "You want to teach me a lesson? The only thing you could teach me is how to be a dumbass, like you!" Roaring, they ran at him_—"I have to time this just right, or else it's not going to work—closer, closer—Now!" _He ran straight at and into one of them, and punched him in the stomach for good measure. _"Four Down"_ He kicked the nearest person to him in the shins, doubling him over, and used the moment of weakness to punch him in the face _"Five D- _

He saw a flash of black and a basket go past him. "_Who was—The_—"

"What are you doing?" He turned and yelled at her. "What the—"

Pain exploded in his right eye, and he saw red and black and stars, then his side—hurriedly, he wiped the blood from his eye—another punch coming straight at him. He dropped like a stone and rolled out of the way. _"I can't fight like this, Stupid Girl!"_ He internally cursed.

The Girl! Somehow, somehow, he managed to land a punch, and somehow, he managed to grab her pale arm and sprinted as fast as he could in the opposite direction, through the winding, narrow maze of alleyways, a blur of fading sight and sound, and never stopped, never looked back.

Their feet pounded notes on the stones as they ran away, together.

"Thank you"

He looked back to see chocolate brown eyes smile at him.

He scowled.

"You idiot"

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A/N: Review?


	2. Pink Cloth

Thanks to all the reviewers- every review is really appreciated

I finished this one earlier, so I just decided to upload it now- It's a long one; it has more Hitsugaya and Hinamori (Yay), and it's still about their first meeting.

I hope you enjoy it! (And if you do, please review!)

PS. I'm also looking for a beta. Anyone interested?

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_With this **pink cloth**, I tie myself to you~_

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"I-_wheeze-_I-I think it's safe here"

They collapse onto the grimy street like falling buildings in a heap of tangled legs and arms, black and white, color and sound, and boy and girl, as the dilapidated shacks quietly watch over them. Silence settles in the air, save for the sounds of far-off, distant markets and their own labored, rattling sucks of air.

Cautiously, she looks over her shoulder, at the spiky mess of hair, skinny arms, skinny legs, and cold green eyes. _Her savior_

_Funny, I thought he was taller than…that…_

Curiosity bubbles inside her- _who is he?_ -and the questions rake through her mind like arrows through air, but fear (because still, it lingers in her) and doubt still swim in her and keep her silent. _Why did he save me? What sort of person is he? Where did he come from? How did he find me? What will happen to me?_

_Who is—_

"You baka," Green eyes growl.

_Wait... _"What?" she cries.

He stands and glares at her, eyes as cold and piercing as ice. "What the hell were you thinking—standing there, waiting to get robbed and beaten and who knows what? Why the hell didn't you try and run away? Did you want to get beaten and robbed? Do you have a death wis—"

Anger drains most of the curiosity in her stomach, and fills it with something far more…burning. "What sort of rescuer are you?" she shouts, "Of course I don't have a death wish, did you see how many of them there were? Six, Six of them, and all of them were surrounding me; I couldn't escape—"

"Oh, so you decided fighting six men taller and stronger than you _alone _was a smarter option?"

Her cheeks flame red, and she blushes. "N-No, but it was a better idea than running—Besides, they were all taller than you too—"

The mood shifted. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, purplish blue veins seemed to be popping out of his skin, and his voice lowered, quietly, dangerously. If she wasn't so angry, she might've been very scared, but…

"..."

"..."

"…What did you say?"

She stood her full height (which, she noticed, satisfactorily, was a good couple inches over his) and glared back; who did he think he was, trying to bully her like this. "I said, _shorty, _it was a better idea than running—"

"GODAMNIT! I—AM—NOT—SHORT!"

Magnetically, inadvertently, they pull closer and closer and shout louder and louder—

"I can't believe you—Are you stupid, WHY DIDN'T YOU RUN WHILE I WAS FIGHTING THEM? That was the perfect opportunity to get away, and what do you do—Run back straight at them—" his eyes flashed

"HEY! I came back to help you—That other guy was totally about to attack you—"

"—You didn't think I noticed him running _straight_ at me?

"Well, you were distracted with fighting the other guy, and I didn't want you to get hurt so I decided to help you out—"

"Yeah, because that turned out _so_ well…"

"Hey! I tried! At least I didn't run away and abandon you or anything!"

"I even lost my basket trying to—Oh no! My Basket!—Now look at what happened, All that bread…wasted—Now Granny will never, ever trust me to get the food ever again, and it'll be all your fault" she moaned.

'How—"He winced and put a hand to his temple, and she noticed the trail of ruby red blood that leaked down his face, past his hand. Guilt swallowed the anger, ate her up completely _How could she be so selfish?-- _as she saw the pain written across his face. As rude as he was, he saved her, and he got hurt because he tried to save her, because of her. Most people wouldn't even have stopped for the fear, but he did and she yelled, insulted, moaned at him for it, when instead, she should've been praising the ground he walked.

_What would've happened to me if he didn't come? _She looked up, to where the buildings blocked out the sun, and shivered. She felt, like, no, lower, than the scum on her bruised feet._ I-I'm sorry._

Blood trickled down into his eyes, and he blinked hard.

Like that, it came to her, and she knew what she had to do. She looked down and felt the soft pink cloth that made up her yukata. It was her favorite. She tried not to flinch, _don't think about that, look at him_; such a shame it had to be this one…

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!

He opened his eyes to pink and the girl above him. "Wha—"

"Shhh…" she ordered. "Just stay still."

And carefully, quietly, in her considerably shorter Yukata, she took long, ragged strips of thick pink cloth and wrapped them around his head, his legs, his sides, watching, tying, as the cloth slowly leeched red blood.

...

"I-Thank you"

Her red dipped fingers tie the last knot.

"I'm Hinamori Momo."

He stares (not looking, but _staring_) at her, head a mummified mess of pink stripes, dripping wet blood, spiky, snow-white hair, and ever so-bright green eyes.

"Hitsugaya Toshiro"

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Review?


	3. Shiro chan

Um...where to start?

This one's shorter than the other two (finally!) and probably not as poetic or meaningful, but I like it anyways.

School's finally over, so I'll have more time to write now. (Until, I start going to Camp and go on vacation, etc.)

**Problem**: Last Chapter= 0 reviews

Yeah, that's really disheartening, but what can I do? Use the computer as an evil mind controlling device and get into the heads of all of you readers out there to make you leave reviews? (Oops, I just revealed my plan for world domination...j/k) I'm not begging for reviews, and of course I'll still keep writing this set of drabbles, even if I don't get any.

BUT, It's just nice to get a couple words of encouragement and advice (God knows my work needs some) every now and then. That was the pretty version. This is the ugly one-- If you're reading this story, like it, or at least have read this far into it, please leave a review!

PS. Still looking for a Beta....Any volunteers?

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_Your New Name is **Shiro-chan**_~

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"Hit-su-ga-ya TO-shiro"

Her lips mouth the syllables slowly, exactly, as if they were tastes she was rolling around in her tongue and spitting out, and the sounds—they don't even sound like his name anymore— come out of her mouth and hang in the dusty air, a barrier between her, him, them.

"That's a funny name."

He scowls, trying to ignore the ribbons and pain across his face, but fails, and settles on a half-leer, half-grimace sort of frown. "Yeah, well, you're one to talk _Peaches, _what sort of name is Hina—"

"Nope!" Her eyes sparkle with a glint of light and seem to dance around him wickedly, merrily while she smiles cheerfully, way _too _cheerfully.

Already, he has recognized it as a danger sign, a sign of something very stupid or bad or of general insanity of this person, this _girl, _who first fights and yells at him, then laughs and worries over him, who is infuriating, stupid, and idiotic, and everything stupid he can think of, yet strangely not…hateful or hated.

But still…_Just great_, he thinks, _I can't move and I'm stuck here lying on the ground covered in my own blood alone with some crazy girl_—

"Shiro-chan!"

He chokes, "W-What?"

"Your new name—" she points dramatically at him, smile almost unbearingly smug, "—is Shiro-chan"

"Wha—? NO!"

"Well, Toshiro Hitsugaya is such a long name and hard to pronounce —Shiro-chan is so much cuter and shorter and easier to say—"

_She cannot be serious_—He musters every bit of evil, cold, ice he has in him and puts in into his eyes, _Don't call me Shiro-chan_, and glares, glares, and glares at her, until his eyes start to water from staring so hard and his voice is rough with the strains of anger. (_Because, surely, even she will realize that he doesn't like the nickname, doesn't like her…_)

"Shut up, (glare) Just because I saved you doesn't mean I like you, friends with you, or have any relationship to you in any way, got that? My name is Hitsugaya Toshiro, Hit-su-gaya To-shiro, and I am not _short_ or _cute—",_

He glares some more at the pitying, condescending look she gives him, _"—_or whatever thing you think I am, and my name is NOT Shiro-chan, and you have no right to call me that ever—"

She smiles and leans down closer to him, and he flinches back.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm just helping you up, Shiro-chan~"

"_You baka, I told you to stop calling me that!"_

_

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_A/N: Make my soul happy: Review!


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